


My Young Years

by StupidGenius



Series: Talia's Diner [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dead Scott, Frontotemporal Dementia, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kinda, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Suicidal Thoughts, this is angstier than the rest of series not gonna lie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 03:51:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8312953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StupidGenius/pseuds/StupidGenius
Summary: "You're lucky." They said. "Most premature omega babies don't make it."John knows that, more than anyone. He thinks of the little sister he almost had, looks down at his son, and thanks whatever's out there that he's breathing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I realized that I never really wrote the Sheriff in any of these, so here's a fic about Stiles' childhood and growing up feat. Isaac.
> 
> (If i missed any tags, please let me know!)

The day Stiles is born is probably the happiest day of John and Claudia Stilinski's lives, and also the most stressful.

Betas are pretty much infertile. It helped that he was an Alpha, but everyone was still skeptical they would actually get pregnant. Especially with her family's medical history. The chances of them having a baby that was biologically theirs was less than one in a million. So, when Claudia gets pregnant, they're overjoyed.

They always knew the pregnancy would be rough. Pregnant Betas are always reminded of every complication they could come across, and told they should pretty much be in bed rest the moment they developed a bump. Claudia, for all that she hated it, followed every rule. John waited on her hand and foot, read every pregnancy book he could get his hands on. Gave up everything she had to give up. And he was happy to do it. It still didn't stop their baby from being born too early.

 Stiles was a worryingly small baby, born a just a bit past the seven month mark. He spent five weeks in the NICU, hooked up to machines and stuck in a glass case, and all John could think about was how Omega babies already had the weakest immune systems, and how it would absolutely destroy them if he didn't make it. For a while there, it looked like he wouldn't.

His little heart was weak, lungs underdeveloped, and he wasn't able to keep any heat, at first. He was so pale. They practically lived in the hospital.

 John's pretty sure he cried more that Stiles did the day that kid first took a real breath. The day they told them Stiles would be okay was pretty much the best day of their lives.

"You're lucky." They said. "Most premature omega babies don't make it."

John knows that, more than anyone. He thinks of the little sister he almost had, looks down at his son, and thanks whatever's out there that he's breathing.

The day they finally get to bring him home, Claudia doesn't put him down.

"It's just a reflex." She mutters, staring at where my their son's small hand is wrapped around her finger. "When they do that - it doesn't really mean anything. Buts it's still so damn cute."

He can't help but agree.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first time Stiles gets a fever, he's seven months old, and john's not afraid to admit he goes a bit crazy. He's heard horror stories about parents thinking their baby had an ordinary cold, and then finding them dead in the middle of the night, so, yeah, you bet your ass he packed some of Stiles' stuff and drove them all to the hospital.

That's where they meet Melissa.

"He'll be fine." She assures them, smiling at Stiles as he sucks on a pacifier in her arms. "Just a cold. It's already going away."

"Oh." John nods. Claudia rolls her eyes at him.

"I understand. I have a two month old at home. Always afraid to leave him with my mom, even though I know she'll take care of him."

Stiles reaches a small hand toward her curly black hair, and John pulls him away, knowing he's try and tug it out the second he gets his hands on it.

Melissa just smiles at him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first day of kindergarten, Stiles doesn't cry and cling to their legs like he expects. He just frowns at the other kids.

"Why are they crying?"

"They don't want their parents to leave them." Claudia explains. Stiles just seems confused.

"But they'll come back." He looks up at them. "Right? You'll come back for me?"

"Always, kiddo." John assures him. Stiles nods, then kisses them on the cheek and runs off to the school entrance.

When John come back to pick him up six hours later, he's practically dragging some poor kid across the pavement, he's running so fast. He's deceptively strong, for someone who's still smaller and thinner than doctors would like.

"Dad! Dad! Look!" Stiles beams up at him, skidding to a stop. The kid next to him stumbles, using Stiles' sleeve to keep himself from falling. "This is Scott. He's my new best friend. He's supposed to be in miss Lily's class but they wouldn't let him cause they said his birthday's too late, so they put him in the baby's class with the babies."

"M'not in the baby class, 'Tiles!" Scott pouts.

"Okay, fine. The smaller kid class." Stiles nods his head, and Scott smiles at him. One of his front teeth is missing.

"Hello, Scott." John says when he finally get the chance to speak. "Where are your parents?"

"Oh." The kid fidgets. "Um. Daddy left. I dunno when he's coming back. And Mama's working." He shrugs. "Bus left before I get in."

"Okay, kiddo." He sighs, squatting down. "How about you come home with us, and I'll call your mom when she's not working. Stiles' mom's gonna make some brownies."

"Brownies!" Stiles grins, throwing his hands up in the air. "Mommy's brownies are the best, Scotty."

"How do you know?"

"Daddy says so." Stiles takes the kid by the hand and starts helping him into the back seat of the cruiser. John rubs his hand down his face, sighing.

"Abuela says all the food my mama makes is the best."

"Maybe your mommy makes the best everything else. My mommy can't make anything other than brownies and hot dogs."

"Hot dogs are the best."

"Dude, I know." Stiles agrees. John laughs, starting up the car.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles was always a strangely observant child. It only got worse the older he got. So it's not that much of a surprise that he knew something was wrong the moment Claudia got home from the hospital.

"Don't lie to me." Is the first thing he says when they sit him down on the couch to talk. "I wanna know."

He's eight years old.

He doesn't deserve this.

"I'm sick." Claudia tell him. "There's...it's my brain. There's something wrong with it. That's why I've been forgetting stuff lately." Stiles twists the hem of his sweater in his small fists, brows furrowing. John wishes they didn't have to do it this way, but Stiles would be angry if they tried to lie. He always knows when they do, and they can't figure out why that is.

"It's not the kinda sick that gets better, is it." Not a question. Claudia shakes her head.

"No, baby. It's not." She whispers. Stiles blinks at them for a moment, and then his face falls and he barrels toward them, clinging to them with skinny arms.

It only gets worse from there.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They realize they can't just keep pretending everything is fine the day that Stiles runs away.

John's at work. He has been for almost 12 hours when he gets a call from home. He ignores it at first, because it's usually Stiles asking about what case he's working on, and a) he shouldn't tell his eight year old about his cases and b) he's really busy right now. But then it rings a second time, and then his cell phone rings. Now he knows it's something important.

"He's gone." Claudia sobs. John stands up.

"What?"

"He's gone! I said something - I don't know - and then I checked - it's empty!"

"D, just - slow down, honey, what happened?"

"I can't remember what I said. Stiles and I were fighting and I said - something horrible, god, his face - and I tried to apologize but he ran up to his room. I went up there an hour later and he wasn't there, John, he's not in the house. I looked everywhere, his back pack - jesus, I've lost my son in my own house." She sobs. John grabs his jacket and keys.

"Okay, it'll be okay. I'll - I'll get some guys out to look for him, call people. We'll find him, alright?" He assures. She continues to cry.

He tries to pretend like his heart isn't threatening to beat out of his chest the whole time. Like he's sure he won't find his kid's body torn apart in the woods. But he's not sure. He always pictures the worst, when it comes to Stiles. Maybe it's a habit.

The sheriff sends out a few deputies to look in various places, but in the end, it's not a deputy that finds him.

"Deputy Stilinski?" The woman standing in front of him waits for his nod before continuing. "My name is Talia Hale. I believe we have your son."

"What?" He snaps. She holds up a finger.

"Right. Sorry. That's not the best way to phrase that. I didn't take him. My brother found him in a tree on our property, and I figured that he was the missing boy we heard about. My oldest daughter is looking after him. He's okay."

John's never been more relieved.

Stiles doesn't say much when John picks him up. He refuses to tell them what Claudia said to him, only that he 'forgives her because she didn't mean it'. John wishes he could be angry, yell at something, ground him. But he knows what kind of terrible things Claudia can say when she _really_ forgets everything, and it's not something any kid should have to hear, especially not from their parents.

Claudia cries, and John takes them out for ice cream. They stay until his kid is smiling again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He never thought he'd ever spend this much time in the hospital again. Not since stiles was born.

But here they are now. Claudia's been In here for months, and every day is worse than the last. She hasn't really known who they were in weeks. The only good thing is that she seems somewhat happy, finding out she has a loving husband and beautiful son. There haven't been any cruel or violent episodes in a bit now, and Stiles is curled up in what has to be an uncomfortable position, fast asleep. Claudia's eyes open for the first time that day, and John smiles at her.

"Hey." He whispers, not wanting to wake Stiles up. He hasn't been sleeping, lately.

"John." She grips his hand tight. "I need you to promise me something."

"Anything."

"Let me go." It shocks him so much he actually lets her hand drop, rearing back.

"What? D, _no_ -"

"You have to let me go." She says, softly. The same voice she used to tell Stiles about all this a year ago. "When I die, don't dwell. Let me go. For me." She glances at Stiles. "For him."

"Claudia, please -"

"Promise me." She insists.

"I promise." He lies.

She dies a week later, while he's at work. When he get to the hospital, Stiles is screaming.

He'll never forget the sound.

 

 

* * *

 

 

John works twice as hard, and the guilt of avoiding his empty home and his son (his son, who looks so much like his dead wife he can hardly look at him) eats him up inside. He goes home, and he drinks until nothing hurts, and then he sleeps.

It goes on longer than he would like to admit, but it all comes tp an end when Stiles stumbles down the stairs one night, gasping, and even in John's drunken state he can tell his son can't breathe, and he needs _help_.

He calls Melissa to drive them to the hospital. She shows up, and hugs Stiles, and tells them what a panic attack is. Scott and Stiles fall sleep on the couch, wrapped around each other, and John wishes Claudia were still alive.

"I need help." He says, and Melissa wraps her arms around him. "We both do."

 

 

* * *

 

 

With the start of middle school comes a small, shy boy named Isaac Lahey. Stiles brings this kid home one day, introduces him with a "his mom died too", and then the they run up the stairs to his room.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Stiles is in the seventh grade, he turns thirteen. Two days later, John gets appointed Beacon Hills' new  Sheriff. A week after that, he arrests Isaac's father for child abuse.

Melissa - an actual angel, John is starting to realize - adopts him.

When Stiles is 16, just starting his second year of high school, Scott gets pneumonia.

The boys spend two weeks in the hospital, Melissa dropping in whenever she can. John wonders how long they're gonna set up camp this time. Thinks about getting the boys a better TV for the room, or something.

He doesn't get the chance.

Not many people show up for Scott's funeral, not like Claudia. There's Melissa and Isaac, and Stiles and himself. A girl named Allison stands in the background and cries, and Lydia Martin - Stiles talked about her so much, before - hugs her, and she doesn't cry. Melissa's ex-husband shows up, and he cries too. There's yelling, from Melissa and Isaac and Stiles, it all ends when Stiles comes up and _punches him in the face_.

"You left!" He screams. "You left and you didn't come back and he missed you, and he died, and you were gone!"

"You need to leave." John says, with a calm he doesn't feel. Melissa grips his hand, and her ex turns to leave.

"I loved him." He says. She sobs.

"Not enough."

 

 

* * *

 

 

It takes them a long time to recover.

Isaac spends some nights over, and stiles starts having panic attacks again, and John feels like he’ lost another part of his family. Melissa doesn’t drink like he did, but she throws herself into her work, and it reminds him of himself.

“My son is dead.” She says one night, when the boys are asleep upstairs. He doesn’t say sorry, because he knows it won’t help.

“You’ll get through this.” He says instead. She looks like she doesn’t believe it, but then Isaac stumbles down the stairs. He doesn’t look good, sweat on his face and pale.

“Mom?” He mumbles.

“ _Sometimes, I feel like I’m replacing him_.” She tells him later. John looks at her, and thinks about the feeling in his chest when she smiles at him, the one he ignores.

“ _You’re not. Scott will always be your son. But Isaac…Isaac is your son too_.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

John doesn’t remember how, exactly, he got shot. All he knows is that when he wakes up, Stiles is there. He’s asleep in a chair next to the bed, twisted impossibly, wearing clothes that John is sure don’t belong to him. He looks tired, and the hand holding his has bruises on the knuckles.

He’s eighteen years old, but every time John sees him in a hospital chair, he sees his eight year old son screaming for a mom that died hours ago.

“Sheriff Stilinski?” someone says.

When he looks up, there’s a woman at the door. Her eyes flash red, and he recognizes her.

“I know you.” He croaks. “You’re Talia Hale. You fond stiles when he ran away.”

“My brother did, actually.” She smiles sadly. “He also found Stiles a few days ago, vandalizing my diner.”

“Oh, hell.” He huffs, and holds his son’s hand tighter. Stiles doesn’t stir. “I’m so sorry, I’ll –”

“Don’t worry about it. I…I know a bit about teenage boys acting out. He didn’t do any damage.”

“Oh.”

“He’s been staying at our house for the past view days, while you’ve been here. My brother might want to steal him away from you now, so, I’m kind of sorry about that.”

“Thanks.” He whispers. “Thank you. For taking care of him.”

“It’s no problem at all. Everyone love him.” She tucks a lock of greying hair behind her ear. “Actually, I’d like to offer him a job. I wanted to ask him earlier, but, well. He couldn’t think very clearly, with you here. He loves you a lot, you know.”

“Yeah.” He closes his eyes. “I know.”

“I was hoping you could tell him about the offer? Or I could come back later? I hope you get well soon, Sheriff .”

“John.” He manages to get out. He’s tried, and in pain, but this woman is nice and she took care of his kid when he couldn’t. “It’s John.”

“Alright. Get well soon, John. I look forward to having Stiles at the diner.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The Hales slowly become a large part of their lives.

They invite the Stilinskis over for thanksgiving dinner soon after Stiles starts working there. After that, they’re invited to diner every month. And then Isaac and Cora start dating, and its breakfast every week. Stiles moves out and Melissa moves in. They tell the boys it’s because it just makes sense, since they live alone. John doesn’t see the way Melissa looks at him, and she doesn’t see the way he looks at her. Peter notices, and says nothing, because he can be a cruel bastard sometimes.

The first time John is sure the Hales will be in their lives forever is the day Isaac and Cora gert married. He wonders if Stiles will end up marrying a Hale too (stiles does soemtimes spend a while talking about how gorgeous Laura Hale is), and the the day Stiles drops by with lunch and complains about rude shirtless painters, he thinks he might have his answer.

“Derek Hale is a complete ass.” Stiles tells him. “And I don’t know how such an amazing person gave birth to such a sourwolf.”

“’Sourwolf?’”

“Yeah, cause he’s got these eyebrows and they – shut up dad.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles gets in a car accident that ruins his leg. He and Derek meet with the doctors, and John isn’t there to hold his son with they tell him he’ll probably never be able to have kids because of what the accident did to him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Stiles would kill me if he knew I was doing this.” Derek says. It’s a week before Beck and Scott’s birthday (John likes to think of them as his grandkids. Likes to imagine that actually being true), and Derek is at the house.

“Shouldn’t you be working on your new painting?” he wonders. Derek shakes  his head.

“I, um. I finished it.”

(Later, Derek’s newest collection will be hung up in a gallery, and John will walk in and see his son’s face staring back at him. The oldest painting will be dated back five years. It’ll be titled ‘Love’, and Stiles will tease Derek for it and call him a sap.)

“Derek. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?” John asks. Derek nods, and his hands are shaking. His mouth opens and closes a few times, and then he finally steels himself and says;

“I’m going to ask Stiles to marry me.” he says in a rush. “And, uh. I’d like your blessing. Sir.”

Oh thank god.

John was starting to think someone died.

“You’re right.” He waits a moment to say it, because as much as he loves Derek, it _is_ sometimes fun to torture him. “Stiles would kill you is he found out his Alpha boyfriend asked his father for his hand in marriage.”

“That’s – it’s not the same!” he squeaks – _squeaks_ , dear lord – and John resists the urge to laugh.

“Okay.”

Derek blinks at him. He looks like he’s preparing for the worst, and there’s only so long John can toy with the kid before he feels like he’s kicking a puppy.

“O…kay?”

“You have my blessing, son. Of course you do.”

Derek actually looks shocked. He’s starting to get why Stiles calls him oblivious.

“You do?”

“Wha – of course I do. You love my son. He loves you. You’re like a son to me, and you’ve literally walked into a burning build to make sure he was okay, which is already impressive all on its own.” Derek’s blushing.

“Thank you, sir.”

“It’s John.”

“Thank you, sir – um. John.”

Close enough.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a few months after wedding, and a week after His first official date with Melissa.

The day had started off great, and was great up until Stiles calls him. His voice sounds hollow when he says

“I think I’m sick, dad.”

And it doesn’t sound like the kind of sick that gets better.

Stiles comes over the next day, and he _does_ look sick. He’s pale, and there’s sweat gathering on his temples and dark circles under his eyes. He hardly eats, and he throws up halfway through the movie they put on. John finds him curled over the toilet, shaking, and he’s scared.

“I don’t want to get as bad as she did.” He cries. “I think I’d rather die than put anyone else through what we went through, dad.”

“Don’t say that.” His voice cracks. Stiles looks at him with red rimmed eyes.

“Would you want to end up like her?”

 _No_ , John thinks. _He wouldn’t_.

He doesn’t answer.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles calls him two days later, and he’s laughing.

“I’m pregnant!” He says. “I’m okay! You’re going to be a grandpa!”

He's man enough to admit he cries.

**Author's Note:**

> I write the first half of this (all the way up to Claudia's death) before I wrote 'Together' and 'We're Built to Last', so I kinda forgot that in this series, she was supposed to die of cancer? I changed a few things in the last one so this one might fit better, but????
> 
> (Also I forgot to add this to the Talia's Diner series earlier, so)
> 
> Comments welcome and appreciated! 
> 
>  
> 
> My [tumblr](http://littleredtheboy.tumblr.com/). Come cry over Stiles with me.
> 
> Want me to write anything? [Send me a prompt](http://stupidgenius.tumblr.com/ask).


End file.
